


Keep the Dirt Off Your Knees

by dragonspell



Series: Dreaming In Florescents [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:58:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants a desperate handjob in a dirty gas station bathroom.  Direct sequel to <a href="http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/121541.html">Clements, Minnesota</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep the Dirt Off Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal 8-28-16.

**Title:** Keep the Dirt Off Your Knees  
**Author:** [](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/)**dragonspell**  
**Series:** Supernatural  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Underage content (Sam's 15, Dean's 19). Pre-series.  
**Summary:** Dean wants a desperate handjob in a dirty gas station bathroom. Direct sequel to [Clements, Minnesota](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/121541.html).  
**Word Count:** 1800  
**A/N:** Sequel to [Dreaming in Florescents](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/120979.html), [Blue Raspberry](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/121127.html), and [Clements, Minnesota](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/121541.html) however, you don't need to read them to understand this. Just porn. =) Also, I so badly wanted to call this fic "Underneath the Texaco Star" after a lyric from a Trisha Yearwood song that refuses to leave my head but wouldn't you know it, no Texacos in the entire area. xD

Sequel: [Staying Focused](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/123760.html).

  
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean whispers, kneeling on the black upholstery as he leans into the backseat of the Impala. He looks up and out the window at his father who’s gassing up the car, watching the little numbers spin and eat away at their meager funds. They’re three hours out of Clements and on route to the job in Wisconsin and they really don’t have much time. He shakes Sam’s shoulder and Sam finally startles awake.

“Dean?” Sam asks sleepily, squinting at him.

Dean grins. “Yeah, Sammy.” He jerks his head at the gas station. “Come on.”

Sam rubs at his eyes and tilts his head to glance out the window at Dad. “Where we goin’?”

“Disney World,” Dean snaps. “Gonna go see Mickey Mouse.” He lashes out a hand, hitting Sam upside the head. “Now, _come on_.” With a surge of irritation, Dean sees that Dad is now watching them curiously, one eyebrow raised. Damn Sam and his insistent need to always ask ‘why.’ He’s going to shoot Dean’s plans all to shit without even knowing what they are. Dean glares down at Sam, concocting a cover story off the top of his head. “Knowing you, you probably gotta pee and I don’t want to have to make any more stops than we have to.” Sam glares but Dad’s nodding in understanding, a small grin on his face, and that’s really all that matters.

Sam shoves Dean away, pushing him out of the car while he slides to the end of the seat and stands up on the pavement. Christ but the kid is getting tall. He’s already Dean’s height. “Stop treating me like a kid, Dean,” Sam snarls.

“Stop acting like one,” Dean shoots back and grabs Sam’s jacket to pull him along to the gas station. Sam stumbles but catches himself and shakes Dean off, stretching out his long legs to get ahead of Dean. Damn moron, anyway…

They’re lucky that Dad chose this gas station which is why Dean knew he had to wake Sam up. Sam’s never too quick on his feet when he first wakes up but Dean figures they’re not going to have a chance like this in awhile. They’re lucky, though, because the restroom’s a single unisex room only accessible from the outside of the building and guess what, it’s on the other side of the building. Dean’d already seen it when Dad had pulled in.

Sam reaches the building just before Dean but he moves to enter the station, not knowing where he’s going. Dean stops him with a hand in his coat again, dragging him to the side to go around. Sam smacks his hand even as he follows. “I said stop treating me like a kid!”

Dean yanks him around the corner, just out of Dad’s line of sight and digs his hands into the old Carhart to drag Sam up close to him. “Trust me, Sammy,” Dean whispers, putting heat into his voice, “treating you like a kid is the last thing on my mind.”

Just like that, Sam suddenly gets it, like his brain finally turned over and started. He reaches out for Dean, eyes dilating, but Dean forces himself to step away. “Not here,” he says, glancing over his shoulders to see if anyone’s watching. This side of the station’s fairly deserted, though, except for a trucker over at the diesel who’s eyeing his tires. “Inside.” Dean’s dick is already throbbing in his jeans, up and ready for the job and Christ but he’s going to enjoy the fuck out of this.

It’s been weeks since he’s managed to get laid properly and his balls are helpfully reminding him of that fact at the moment. They feel like they’re tied into a knot, they’re so damned blue and if he had to spend another hour in the damn car he was going to scream.

Sam seems as eager as Dean does, though, stumbling inside the bathroom and dragging Dean along with him. Dean just barely manages to get the door closed behind them before Sam’s slamming him against it, fists buried in Dean’s overshirt. His lips cover Dean’s, tongue thrusting into Dean’s mouth, more passion than finesse but Dean meets him with an embarrassingly enthusiastic moan. Dean fumbles for the lock, hearing it snick into place and then he's wrapping his arms around Sam’s already broad shoulders, dragging the kid up against him.

Sam’s humping Dean’s leg, grinding his hard cock against Dean’s thigh saying, “God, yes, Dean, fuck, you feel so good…” and Dean’s never been able to resist that.

They don’t have much time, either, so he quickly unsnaps Sam’s jeans, shoving a hand inside them to push down the zipper and palms Sam’s cock. Sam jumps like a startled horse before he arches against Dean with a throaty moan. “That’s it, Sammy,” Dean whispers, reaching inside Sam’s underwear to finally touch that silky hotness throbbing in Sam’s pants. Sam widens his stance.

“Fuck, Dean…” Sam groans, his own hands roughly scraping up under Dean’s shirt before they delve down inside his jeans. “Yeah,” Sam says, biting his lip and tossing his hair out of his eyes, “let me do you too…” and Dean can get on board with that.

Dean whines when Sam closes his big hand around Dean’s dick, stroking all the way up to the tip and milking out the precome. Dean shudders, leaning against the door and starts moving his hips, fucking Sam’s grip. Sam’s mimicking him with Dean’s hand and fuck it’s so goddamned perfect. Sam thrusts a leg between Dean’s, holding him open and Dean has to bite his lip because he’s a step away from coming, probably miles ahead of Sam and just who’s supposed to be the fifteen year old here?

The bathroom’s the same as any other gas station restroom they’ve ever been in—filthy, cramped and utilitarian—and Dean knows that even as much as he wants to get his mouth on Sam’s dick, have the kid go insane while Dean’s on his knees, he doesn’t dare. Sam’s come would taste good on Dean’s tongue, giving him something to remember for miles, but he’d never be able to get the stains out of his jeans. So they have to do this standing up, keeping the thick leather of their boots between them and the dirty floor. Dean’s not even sure if he trusts his shirt to be looking okay being as it’s rubbing against the door.

Sam’s breath starts to hitch, his face flushing and Dean moans. Fucking hottest thing he’s ever seen. He doesn’t know what it means that he considers his baby brother to be hotter than any chick he’s ever slept with, he just knows that he’s not going to think about it. It’s just who they are and Dean’s more than okay with just living with that fact. Sam tightens his grip on Dean’s dick and Dean surges forward helplessly. “Fuck, Sammy,” he pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He leans forward to pull Sam into another kiss, swirling their tongues together until they finally break away for air.

“Close, Dean, I’m close,” Sam says, his voice breathy and thin. “God, I’m gonna…” Dean wants to let him—he wants to let Sam come all over him but Christ, their father’s right outside on the other side of the building probably wondering where the hell they are. Dean uses his free hand to grip Sam’s hip, coaxing the kid into angling away even as he speeds up his strokes. Sam comes with a choked moan, biting into Dean’s shirt to stop himself from fully vocalizing and Dean shivers as Sam spills his spunk onto the floor. Sam’s breath is rasping right beside Dean’s ear and Dean closes his eyes as he feels himself tipping over too. “Fuck…” he whispers, orgasm wrenching out him almost painfully. His knees buckle and it’s a damn good thing Sam’s got him shoved against the door.

Wet lips suck against Dean’s jaw, a tongue flicking under Dean’s ear and Dean tilts his head to give Sam more access as he slowly comes back down from his high. “Sammy…” he whispers.

“Fuck yeah,” Sam growls, sounding fucked out and feral and it sends a shiver down Dean’s spine. “Fuck yeah, yeah it’s me.” He bites down on Dean’s skin and Dean wants to mock Sam for his caveman tendencies or to at least remind him not to leave any marks but he just doesn’t have the willpower at the moment. Instead, he just moans, rubbing softly at the thigh Sam’s still got pressed between Dean’s legs. “Mine,” Sam’s saying and Dean knows it’s true.

Somehow, they manage to untangle and Dean manages to convince his shaky legs to hold him. It feels like his brain drizzled out his dick or something but Dean forces himself to get it working again before he lets them step out of the restroom. He and Sam check each over quickly to make sure they look decent and there’s no evidence to give them away besides the self-satisfied smirks they’re both wearing. Dean winks and hauls Sam towards him to kiss the matching grins away.

Sam’s hands rise automatically to cup Dean’s ass, squeezing it, and Dean reluctantly pulls away, breaking the kiss and moving his ass out of Sam’s reach. They don’t have any time and if Sam keeps that up, they’re going to have a problem. “Ready?” Dean asks, trying to shove the desire out of his voice.

Sam pouts but nods because he understands just as well as Dean does and Dean finally unlocks the door.

Dad’s waiting for them in the Impala, fingers tapping against the steering wheel and he shoots them an impatient glance as they slide back inside the car but there’s no suspicion in it. Dean buckles his seat belt and glances at his father. “Four more hours?” he asks and Dad nods.

“Yep.” He starts the car and Dean turns in the seat to glance back at Sammy.

“You gonna be okay back there by yourself, Sammy?” Dean teases, just because he can. “Need your blankie?” Sam doesn’t even have to move from his position behind Dad to kick Dean’s seat: he just stretches out one long leg to slam his boot into the back side.

“Jerk,” Sam says, smiling tightly.

“Bitch,” Dean shoots back with a grin. He can still see the spark of heat in Sam’s eye and the image of Sam gasping and flushing isn’t that far away. Dean turns back around and wiggles into a comfortable position, getting set for the next four hours. He’s pretty sure he’ll be good until them.

Sam’s boot collides with Dean’s seat one more time and Dean grins.

[Staying Focused](http://dragonspell.livejournal.com/123760.html)  



End file.
